


The Mask Bleeds

by bruhidekanymore



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Arson, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Fighting, M/M, Minecraft, Not shipping - Freeform, Other, Violence, again i'm not shipping them, boom goes l'manberg, l'manberg, no one dies, no romantic relationships, platonic, this is kinda violent, why is there an arsonist sapnap tag lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:00:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29162304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bruhidekanymore/pseuds/bruhidekanymore
Summary: L’manberg has fallen and all that’s left is rubble and ashes. Technoblade and Dream stand just above the giant crater, once known to be a country. A heated conversation between the two ensues, devolving into an all out battle.or Technoblade loses his mind going power hungry for a bit.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF)
Kudos: 22





	The Mask Bleeds

**Author's Note:**

> So, I saw someone write something like this before but it had smut, but I really liked the concept except without the smut, so I decided, hey...let’s just rewrite it with a similar plot and no smut/shipping :D (primarily because I know technoblade isn’t okay with shipping, but i thought the original concept was interesting) anyways, I hope it’s good and enjoy! OH, and these are their SMP characters, not the actual youtubers themselves :] 
> 
> If either of them ever expressed any discomfort about things like this being written about them, I will gladly take this down! :]
> 
> TW: blood, sharp objects, wounds

Dark ash fell from the sky in flurries, much similar to a snow storm in the middle of a rough winter. A gaping hole left in what was once a thriving and well-renowned country to all on the Dream SMP, whether one was against it or not. The loud noise of abrupt explosions had ceased hours ago, nothing but tantalizing silence filling the air. It was a dreadful sound to the citizens of L’manberg, and most people hadn’t stopped by since the one-sided war against them had finished. Technoblade walked past the newly created historical sight, little care settling inside of his chest. He was glad it was over. That a country that continued to tear relationships apart was finally put to rest - or rather, forced into silence now. The sneer under his mask wasn’t visible to passerbyers, but just stance alone clearly showcased the victory he wore on his shoulders. Even if it did take having to get help from someone he wasn’t too keen on trusting in the first place. 

And thinking of the devil himself, he slowly appeared from behind the rubble. 

He wore his taunting smiley face mask with pride and no shame was ever found on him. The way he stood, the way he spoke - as if all he did was mock everyone around him with his presence alone. Techno was well-aware of how charmingly Dream spoke, how he’d twist his words to strike a deal that one would think was worth bargaining for, only to find out there was a trick behind each word that came off his tongue. If there was one person to fear on this god-for-saken server, it was the man in the green hoodie, with words that could melt your brain into nothingness simply by having a conversation with him. So when he started to approach Technoblade, he urged himself to stay quiet, and only answer when spoken to. He had no business left with Dream now, and if he did, it was to return a favor to him a later date. However, Technoblade would worry about that when the time came instead. For now, the smiley face devoid of human emotion stood at Technoblade’s side, looking out at the destruction that had caused. 

“It’s finally gone,” Dream spoke, a sense of pride lingering in his voice. 

Despite that pride that resided in his throat, Technoblade could just about hear the coldness settling within Dream’s numb heart. 

“It’s only because we had a common goal that L’manberg has fallen,” Technoblade hisses, standing tall. 

“You must be happy about it though, right?” Dream states, that persuasive and manipulating tone in his voice, rising. 

Technoblade is silent, turning his head to his right, the opposite of where Dream is standing. 

“L’manberg is gone. We don’t know if that’ll silence their mockery of a government though,” Technoblade adds on. 

Dream shifts the weight of his body from his right to his left leg, turning to look directly at Technoblade, who hadn’t bothered to look back. In Techno’s eyes, he had done what was asked of him in part of keeping a deal. This was nothing but a mere agreement, and he had enough sense to drop this conversation where it was. Still. Dream was persistent. If he wanted to talk to someone, he would get them to talk. Whether they were entertained by the conversation or not. At the end of it all, they were both aware of their roles. Techno is nothing but a mere pawn to Dream, and Dream was nothing but a master of tyrannical puppetry to Techno. If they had a common goal, they’d work together to accomplish that goal. That goal, however, did not mean they had to like each other. Tolerance would be just enough. 

“As long as it’s silenced for now, we could work on it being silenced forever,” Dream continues. 

The smirk on Dream’s face was so obvious, so audible through that clay mask of his. Techno wanted to grab the mask on his face and curb stomp it into dust, along with L’manberg itself. He wanted to grab him by his shoulders and kick him until he cried out for mercy, until he realized how far he had gone with taking advantage of people who just wanted freedom. He wanted to watch him bleed. 

All he wanted was to watch that distasteful smiley face, bleed. 

“We?” Techno spits with disgust in his voice. 

“Well, that is if I need to use my favor on bringing down everyone’s spirits again. They all have too much confidence in something that was never supposed to exist,” Dream explains. 

The sword resting in his hilt was aching to be drawn, begging to be used to slice a thin line down Dream’s throat. His head clouded over with thoughts of just relishing in the bloodlust that coursed through his veins unapologetically. He would bet money on the possibility of Dream possessing attractive facial features, which only spurred on his bloodlust more. To press a blade directly to his face, to be the only person to ruin such a beautiful face, the thought was overwhelming. Dream didn’t deserve to have any form of handsome features, when he had the entire SMP in the palm of his hand, he could own anything he wanted without needing beauty. Just a stupid, foreboding mask. Techno could taste blood on his tongue, the metallic flavor settling inside of his mouth. He balled his fist tightly, his regular demeanor and expression never changing. It wouldn’t matter if his expression changed anyways, his very own mask hid how plain his expression was anyways. He unclenched his fist after a moment, well-aware of the marks he had probably left on his palms. 

“You know, Dream,” Techno starts. 

Techno turns his face to look at the monster beside him in the lime green hoodie, smiling care freely. Dream tilts his head, awaiting for him to finish his sentence.  _ He’s open. Just draw your sword quickly, and aim directly for his throat.  _ He suppresses his thoughts, and clears his throat. 

“I may be against the government, but I never meant to bring harm to the people.” 

Dream scoffs, then starts laughing. The sound resounded in Techno’s head, filling him with deep seated rage.  _ Kill him. End it all. Just slit his throat and watch him die _ . 

“Please, you couldn’t possibly care for the people who were living in such a sorry excuse of a country. Weren’t you supposed to be cold-hearted?” Dream says, the venomous tone in his voice threatening to send Techno charging at him with his own fist. 

“I’m not like you.” 

“Then what are you, Techno? Surely, you can’t just see yourself as an anarchist,” Dream tries to persuade him. 

That voice. It was as if all it did was mock him, continuously. How it said that Techno was below Dream. How that voice did nothing but belittle him. Techno was better than Dream, and he knew he was. He wouldn’t stoop as low as to manipulate and torture people with mind games the way Dream did. He was above Dream, nowhere near as soulless as he was. 

“That’s all I am, Dream,” Techno seethed. 

“But you can be so much more than just that,” Dream says, closing a gap between them. 

They stood mask to mask now, staring down at one another with clear bloodlust, tension and anger that went unspoken. The way Dream said it, as if Techno wasn’t better than him. As if Dream was some sort of god that was above him. 

“I don’t want to be someone like you,” Techno sneers, his mouth forming a frown. 

“Someone like me is strong. Maybe stronger than you,” Dream smiles. 

He can’t see it, but he knows. He knows about the shit-eating grin behind that mask. He can hear it, just by that annoying, mind-splintering voice. Techno’s cape flows as the wind captures it, Dream’s hair ruffling just over the mask, silence falls. He knows why Dream chose those words, and he can sense the ever present bloodlust that radiates off of Techno. The tension rises a little more, Techno placing a hand to rest on his sword, and Dream subtly positioning his body so he is really to wield his axe. 

“Someone like you, will always be cowardly. You’re not strong, you’re afraid.”

“Of?”

“Someone being better than you.”

“And that doesn’t exist here. I have no fear. I’m in control.” 

Without comprehending his own movements, Techno draws his sword and takes a jab at Dream’s throat, who misses the action but just a moment’s notice. Dream draws his axe, counteracting Techno’s next attack aimed for his side. Techno didn’t care what it took, even if it meant dueling for hours, he wanted to see him bleed. He wanted to watch the crimson liquid fall from beneath the mask and run down his arms. It didn’t mean he wanted to kill him, he just wanted to see Dream writhe beneath him at his own mercy. Be the only one to have conquered and gained control of someone who thought they were above everyone else. The next move he made was a direct hit, straight across his upper arm, just at the shoulder. Dream faltered for a moment, regaining his composure and dodging more of Techno’s attacks. Dream managed to knock off Techno’s mask in the process of fighting, dealing hits to his body that left deep cuts and scratches. 

Both were bleeding, panting, dealing blows without failure, tripping over debris and rubble. Techno wasn’t satisfied, he wanted Dream to crumble beneath him, surrender to him, show him that he was better than him in every way. Dream had gotten in too many hits for Techno’s comfort, and Techno wanted to see him bleed  _ more _ . Nothing but red glazed over his vision, a foggy state of mind controlling his movements and encouraging him to hit for vital spots on Dream’s body. He wanted Dream to bow down to him, admit to him that he was above him. Beg for him to stop, watch him break, crack until he was completely undone. He wanted to be the one to break Dream, knock him off of that overpowered high horse of his. Put the sword to his throat and declare he overpowered the one and only Dream. The tyrannical ruler that did nothing but shift the pieces on the chessboard every so often, backing everyone into a corner until everyone else had to cry checkmate. Techno would be the one to make Dream call out checkmate now. He had to be the one.

They tumbled onto the ground, Techno’s sword grinding against Dream’s axe, as Dream attempted to shield off the sharp blade that was dangerously close to him. He coaxed the sword away from his face, but not in time to push Techno away from him. Techno straddled Dream, who was now flush against the rubble of L’manberg, a knee pressed to Dream’s chest to keep him from moving. Dream laid with the axe gripped tightly in his right hand, on the verge of swinging at Techno, before Techno could place his foot atop his wrist, grinding it into the ground. Dream heaved a heavy breath, trying to draw air into his lungs in a desperate attempt to survive. The mask covering Dream’s face was met with a hard clattering sound, as the sword sliced across the mask seamlessly. It cracked, broke, one half sliding down Dream’s face and the other covering his left half. Dream’s eyes shone with a darkness and confidence that Techno loathed. He expected to be met with a face that looked completely undone and defeated. Dissatisfied, Techno dragged his sword down Dream’s throat, just lightly enough to let blood bubble at the surface and spill over. Dream’s breath caught in his throat, coughing violently and spitting up blood. 

Despite the situation Dream was thrust into, the smile that Techno had imagined behind that mask, was as ever present as he’d thought to be. A smirk filled with smugness and a face that was now bleeding from the blow to the face Techno had done earlier with his sword. The dark liquid dripped down his face, and the cold from the winter air settled between them. Techno’s heavy pants filled the air, trying to compose himself to deal a final blow, whether it be fatal or not. Techno, unknowingly, let up on foot that was grinding Dream’s wrist into the ground and Dream swung at Techno’s right arm, causing him to stumble back slightly and grab for the wound. Dream was already spent, unable to get up and continue to fight normally. Techno stared back at Dream, to which Dream coughed and spat blood into Techno’s face. Dream was able to shove Techno off of him, using his free hand that was slightly less injured. Techno fell back onto the ground, allowing Dream to sit up. Techno coughed, now also spitting up blood due to the hard elbow that was jabbed into his stomach and throat to push him off of Dream. 

Techno’s adrenaline rush high was beginning to die down, as he watched Dream’s mask completely fall from his face. His blondish hair dirtied with blood and face now tampered by a cut that would probably leave a scar. Techno’s long, pink hair was undone from its braid, and his cape had fallen from his shoulders the moment he hit the ground. The intense anger that seethed in Techno’s chest died down momentarily, as he sat up from the cold ground. Dream’s smile had finally gone dormant, as he stared directly into Techno’s face with his light green eyes. The tension between them settled without words, both of their faces softening to an expression of realization and mutual respect. They exchanged blank stares, breathing heavily, putting their weapons down at their sides. The crown on Techno’s head had fallen, cracked in half and scattered across the ashen land. Dream stood up, wiping stray blood from his mouth and offering a hand out to Techno. Techno avoided the hand, standing up on his own, as Dream placed his hand back at his side. Both left in disheveled states, they picked up their weapons and tucked them away. They turned their attention back at the crater in the ground, where L’manberg once stood. 

“You have my respect, Technoblade,” Dream states. 

Techno turns to look at Dream, but the blank stare devoid of emotion stays on his face. It’s as if the mask was still there. Almost nothing changed. Techno nods once. 

“And you have mine.” 

A chilling breeze is sent through the air again, the remaining ashes sticking to the blood dripping from their skin. 

“Is that all it took?” Dream asked. 

“What do you mean?” Techno returned a question. 

More wind passes, Techno’s hair sticking to wounds, blood and sweat that trailed his body. 

“Nevermind,” Dream stated blankly. 

Techno let the conversation die off. He knew he was referring to the rage that laid within him, but chose not to push him to say it. 

“They might see your face on the walk back,” Techno reminds him. 

Dream shrugs. 

“I’ll take the underground path. No one will see me.” 

They exchanged glances, nodding in silent agreement at one another, as Techno took his mask and fitting it over his face. He picked up his cape, tossing it over his shoulder with little care. Dream picked up the remains of his mask, as Techno did with his crown. In silence they both walked their separate way. To himself, Techno thought for a moment. 

_ Next time, I will get more than just blood. I demand more than just blood.  _

**Author's Note:**

> i hope that was at least decent, it was nice and short. Dream started streaming while i was writing this so I just abandoned this for a minute to go watch lmao anyways hope you enjoyed! :] Also, I didn't link the original work because it does go against Techno's wishes so out of respect for him, I chose not to link it. Thank you for understanding! :]


End file.
